


Apollo's Sons

by Tiger_Eye7429



Series: Self Indulgent Pjo/Sanders Sides fic [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Gen, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Kid Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Kid Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29526927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiger_Eye7429/pseuds/Tiger_Eye7429
Summary: There were almost never any demigod twins.Almost.Then again, Roman and Remus had always been different.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: Self Indulgent Pjo/Sanders Sides fic [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166612
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Apollo's Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Remus is HARD to write so I apologize for anything ooc.

Remus had always been different. While the other kids like Roman talked about fairies and princesses that were saved by noble princes, _blah, blah, blah,_ the boring stuff, he was more interested in how the villain died. Remus was more interested in wondering in vivid detail what would happen if the villain _won_ . That tended to freak everyone out, and though it was pretty good with Roman- let the two make _awesome_ stories to act out that were more realistic, and were, in their opinions, way cooler. 

They made cooler stories about the monsters they saw on the streets, and games to hide from them whenever they saw them. They made stories about the stranger things they could do, and he was the only one who mattered. 

He wasn’t normal. He freaked people out with his imagination and he wasn’t good at controlling his words and he thinks that that’s what people didn’t like about him. That, and he was really good with mice. 

There was an infestation in their house once. Remus didn’t see the problem but his mom was _terrified_ of them, so Remus just… asked them to leave. He told them that they were scaring his mom and asked as politely as he could and they left. 

Roman and his mother saw. Roman thought it was cool, at first. 

His mother didn’t. 

Remus liked talking to the mice. They were better than people, in his opinion. They were funny, they spoke in the language only he knew, and they cursed a _lot_. They were perfect, but his mother didn’t think so, so he didn’t get to talk to them. 

Maybe- maybe that was the start of it all. Maybe not the gross fantasies he thought up, the vivid art, or lewd songs. Maybe it was the mice. Or maybe it started when Roman was able to _concentrate_ even if he couldn’t read well. He didn’t know how it started. 

He knew how it ended, though. It ended with Roman getting sick. 

Something strange was that Roman and Remus never really got sick. Not even when every other kid in the school was sick with the same cold, at least at _some_ point, they never caught it. 

That was a good thing about Remus, though, so it wasn’t noticed. It was only noticed when Roman and Remus were playing at some point. This wasn’t where they noticed, obviously, it was when they started to fight. It was just another sibling spat. Something stupid. 

Remus couldn’t even remember what they were arguing about. That’s how small it was. All he could remember is waking up that day feeling… full. Complete, even, in a way he hadn’t been before- or in the way he had felt before when he had been talking to the mice. 

All he could remember is shoving Roman and suddenly all the power that had been building, churning inside of him shot out from where he had touched. 

And then there was blood. Roman hadn’t gotten hurt on the outside. Something- it was something worse. He’d started coughing and coughing and it was _red_ you weren’t _supposed_ to-

Then his mom had come out and helped and Remus was crying and all he could hear when he thought about it was that it was _your fault that my son is-_

He didn’t die. Roman was too stubborn for that. He could fight dragons and save princesses and there was no way a _cold_ could kill him. Even if that cold made him so feverish it nearly burned to touch his head, even if it made him throw up bile and blood until he could only throw up water and blood and even if Roman could only talk to Remus for a handful of minutes that entire week, he didn’t die. 

In fact, he was sick and feverish and throwing up one second, and then completely fine the next. 

Well, not _completely_ fine, he was still weak and tired and kinda dizzy, but the fever seemed to _vanish_ all at once and he was completely coherent in minutes. 

The first thing he tried to do was hug Remus. 

Remus didn’t want him to get sick again, so he didn’t let him. 

That’s where it ended. 

Remus wasn’t bright- or so everyone thought. Everyone thought that he was bad at reading, and math and sucked at paying attention, so he wasn’t smart. Everyone thought that because he didn’t shine as bright as his brother, he couldn't shine at all. 

Quite honestly, everyone was stupid as hell. Remus wasn’t book smart, maybe, but he sure as hell wasn’t stupid. Remus might not shine like Roman, but considering the fact that every time he tried to get out of Roman’s shadow, he was shoved right back behind him, it made sense that he couldn’t ‘ _shine._ ’

It made sense that he’d leave so he could _never_ be trapped behind that godforsaken shadow again, even if he’d be abandoning the body that cast it again. 

(Coughing up blood and bile and crying and _It’s your fault_ and _I’msorryRoplease-_ )

 _Especially_ if he’d be abandoning the body that casts it. 

He was seven, when he realized that the monsters that he saw in the corners of his eyes through his life, the ones that he and Roman alone had seen, the ones that only he spoke of and learned were ‘fake,’ were very much _real._

And each and every one of them wanted to kill him. 

So he fought. He was nowhere near as fast as Roman, but he was stronger. He had to be not to have wilted in that shadow. He had to be, not to take any of the words at face value. 

He had to be, to stay alive. So he fought. The only weapons that worked were the ones that they were carrying. The only one that he actually used was the one that he found in a store that targeted kids like him. 

There were kids there. 

There _were_ kids there.

(That shop wasn’t there after he was done with it.)

It was pretty cool, a bronze ball that was very heavy, but if he threw it into the air, it would turn into a _spiked_ metal ball on a stick. The stick part was weird- he had to think about it for it to form, and it was already kind of hard to concentrate, so sometimes he just threw the ball. 

He figured out he nearly never missed. Not _once_. Not even when he had to hit them from something that honestly shouldn’t have been possible, considering his seven-year-old strength and the weight of the ball. 

He was smart enough to know that wasn’t normal. He was smart enough to know that _none_ of this was normal. None of the monsters- the weapons- _him_. 

He was smart enough to know that. He wasn’t smart enough to figure out why. He didn’t know any of the answers, but he certainly had plenty of questions. Too many questions and not enough time to figure them out. 

So he just… didn’t answer them. He didn’t need to. He just needed to survive. 

Surviving was _hard._

There was more to surviving than just… fighting monsters. There was food and water and trying to stay warm and that was hard. 

It got easier though. Not at first. It only happened after he saved some kid. 

It was pretty late at night, very late actually, almost-morning late, really. No one would be out, and if they were they wouldn’t see him. 

He definitely didn’t _expect_ to see anyone, but, hey, life was filled with surprises, and he saw three people- scratch that, _one_ person, and two monsters. These women with weird legs and fire hair, and an older kid with a long stick facing them. 

Remus chucked the ball at one of the women without really thinking about it, the thing going straight through her, filling her place with golden glitter. 

Both the older kid and the woman were surprised, but he recovered faster, and soon there were two piles of glitter on the ground and two kids with weapons. Well, one kid with a weapon- Remus still needed to pick up his spiky ball. 

“Hey! Hi! What’s your opinion on dog butts?”

The kid blinked, obviously taken aback, before confusedly answering, “I’m- neutral? I don’t- who are you?”

Remus shrugged, walking over and picking up his now regular metal ball, “Your opinion is saties-sats-saty-”

“Satisfactory?” he looked a touch amused. 

“Yep! I’m Remus! Who’re you?”

“Uh, Janus. You can see these things too, right? Well of course you can,” he mumbled, “But- how- do you know _why?_ ”

“Nope!”

“Dam- dang it,” He snapped his fingers with a frown, “Well then, where are you heading?”

Remus shrugged, “Didn’t think that far ahead,”

“I see. Well, I’m just trying to find a place away from the monsters, I guess, or another person who can see them and explain it, at least,”

“Oh cool! I guess I’ll go with you then!”

“What? You-”

“Nope! I saved your life, now you have to deal with the consequences!”

Janus cracked a smile, “I suppose by those rules I do, now don’t I?”

With that, Janus and Remus were inseparable. If only because Janus owed Remus. He got annoyed in some instances and snapped when he was tired, but he was really cool otherwise. He knew how to lie- which was something Remus was never able to manage and was able to And he made everything… easier. 

It was the middle of a sleepless night, having just gotten jumped and attacked by monsters, too scared to sleep even if neither of them would say it, did Remus propose the question that had been eating at his mind like a thousand ants with the dead carcass of a rat. 

“Janus- if… if I didn’t _force_ you to stay with me… what would you have done?”

Janus, who had been feigning sleep, cracked an eye open, “I suppose I would have found an excuse to kidnap you either way, why?”

Remus cackled, “As if _your_ scrawny ass could kidnap _me,_ ”

“I’m _two_ years older than you, I could do it!”

Remus cackled, giddy with the feeling of being _wanted_ in a way that he hadn’t felt since he’d left, bantering with Janus through the night. 

Remus wasn’t bright, actually. Everyone thought that Remus wasn’t bright, and that was right. He was the shadows. He was the thing that _made_ the stars shine bright. He was the thing that made you scared and excited all at once. The suspense in a horror movie. The thrill, not the light that reveals them. That was Roman’s schtick. 

It was nice for someone to recognize that, and still like him regardless. 

...

They were there. In this… sacred place they’d been searching for months. This sanctuary for demigods. 

He was expecting larger, to be honest. He had _no_ basis on what it looked like and he didn’t expect twelve cabins and a few Ancient Greece-inspired structures next to a strawberry field. 

The pegasi are nice, though, and the lake may be held unspeakable horrors, so that was pretty cool. 

“We’re safe,” Janus breathed. 

Remus hadn’t realized how long Janus had probably been searching for this place. Remus and Roman had made it a _game_ to evade the monsters. Janus didn’t have any demigod brothers to make fleeing the monsters fun. 

(How long had Janus been alone, again?)

Virgil hadn’t even had that much of a problem with the monsters- he _was_ one, that granted him a little immunity. Not to mention that he was a solid four years younger than Janus. That would explain why Janus was getting hit by it so hard. 

Then it hit Remus. These were people who- who _wouldn’t_ outlast him. These walls were safe. This _place_ was safe. 

It hit hard. 

“We’re _safe,_ guys,” Janus repeated, grinning as Remus started laughing, talking Virgil as he lightly pulled Janus into the hug, “We _made_ it,”

They made it. 

That was the new beginning. 

The first day was tough. A lot to process, all lead by a satyr that eyed Virgil warily through the entire trip (Remus would have to get that story out of Virgil because based on the smirk on that kid’s face, he was pretty damned proud of what he did to make that satyr scared shitless). 

They went to the different areas- the craft places that made Remus’ eyes light up from the many ideas that propped up in his head of what he could create. The forges. The strangely out-of-place volleyball court and the lava-spewing rock climbing wall that was so cool that Remus only _barely_ stopped himself from challenging Virgil to climb it right then and there. 

The day dragged on and they got fitted out with armor before a surprisingly intense game of capture the flag that they didn’t do _too_ terribly on, in Remus’ opinion. 

It wasn’t until the campfire that Remus was claimed. 

Apparently, whenever an Apollo kid sings at the campfire or makes a particularly good shot with a bow and arrow for the first time, they get claimed. Honestly, Remus wished someone filled him in on that little tidbit before because otherwise, he wouldn’t have screamed out singing at the same time as the other Apollo kids. Because maybe then when the song ended there wouldn’t be a shiny little symbol glowing above Remus’ head that proved he was a kid of Apollo, the god who he felt the least connected to, in all honesty. Like- light and healing and stuff? Really? _That_ was Remus?

That part wasn’t what annoyed him, to be honest. What really annoyed him was when he was told he couldn’t sleep in the Hermes cabin with Janus and Virgil, instead of having to go to the Apollo cabin. 

It took a bit of convincing. From Chiron, at first, and then from Janus and Virgil, eventually just leading to _we’ll see you in the morning, you’ll be fine, Remus, alright? Besides- I bet that because they’re the healers…_

The meaning clicked and Remus was ready to get some friends he could actually hug (besides Virgil).

The Apollo cabin was the second-largest cabin, besides the Hermes cabin which was filled with both Hermes and unclaimed kids. Apparently, his dad got around. Good for him, he supposed. 

The Apollo cabin’s head counselor explained the whole wide variety of powers that Apollo kids might have. While, generally, they all have pretty good aim and most of them could sing pretty damn well, there was more. There were healers, prophesizers, and artists. The healers and a _bunch_ more. 

“But you might not know for a while. I didn’t learn till I was like, thirteen,”

“Oh, I already know!” Remus grinned, “I can talk to mice!”

The offhand chatter stopped, leaving the whole cabin dead silent. Someone whispered out horrified, “ _What…?_ ”

“You’re a plague kid,” The counselor mumbled, eyes wide, before coughing, waving his hand to try and convey to the other kids to continue their conversations, but there were quite a few people that started talking in harsh whispers, instead. 

“Is- is that bad?”

“It’s… ah, it’s rare- sorry, it’s just. It’s considered a bad omen. We haven’t had one in hundreds of years and… they’re about the direct opposite to the usual Apollo kid. But don’t worry! It isn’t your fault or anything!”

“...oh,”

They continued explaining the cabin, but all Remus could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. 

…

..

.

He thought that he would be accepted here. That he’d finally- fit in.

But Remus had always been different.

**Author's Note:**

> Remus is being a little tamer in the intrusive thoughts department because he's seven, and the worst he's got right now is excessive cursing, intense excitement covering up crippling sadness, mice, and Disney villain deaths. Half-bloods can't use technology much so he hasn't been on the internet enough to learn the inappropriate stuff because his mother doesn't actually want him to die.
> 
> (Virgil is immune to sickness because he's literally made out of silk because he was born from a tapestry and magic, making him about as able to get sick as a naiad can. As long as the tapestry is safe, he can't get sick). 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


End file.
